


Collector's Eye

by Morningside



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, Praise Kink, Vanessa is a woman in charge, kidnapping and coercion and threats oh my
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morningside/pseuds/Morningside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Praise kink Matt/Vanessa/Fisk for the Daredevil kink meme.  Matt attracted more interest than he bargained for when he flashed his bashful smile at Vanessa in her gallery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I just want Fisk and Vanessa double-teaming Matt and both of them calling him 'sweetheart' and 'good boy', etc. Bonus points if Matt is extremely embarrassed that a) he actually gets off to his enemies praising him, and b) that they both saw right through him and knew it was the perfect way to control him.
> 
> It doesn't even have to involve sex- you could just give me Fisk and Vanessa fucking with Matt, whether it's as Daredevil or as himself, and I'd be happy, haha.
> 
> http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1742.html?thread=2865358#cmt2865358

The first time Matthew Murdock met Vanessa Fisk, née Marianna, he sensed her interest and played it like a fine instrument - or so he thought. He was disarming, happy to play the object of curiosity before the collector's eye, and she was charmed. Her hand against his arm was curious, acquisitive. All according to plan, right until the plan fell to shit.

* * *

  
The second time Matt met Vanessa, he was Daredevil, red horns and all. Tracking the ever-retreating trail of Madame Gao's drug ring, he had cornered a group of nameless muscle in a warehouse. As he was relieving them of their weapons and their consciousness, he heard someone in high heels emerge from a back office on an upper floor.  
  
As a solid kick connected with the jaw of the final henchman, a slow round of applause echoed out from a balcony across the room.  
  
"You're quite marvelous, you know." Vanessa. She sounded almost pleased. Matt froze. "Like anger itself in motion. When I destroy you - and I _will_ destroy you, my devil - it will be a great honor to dismantle such a masterpiece. Like snapping the wings off Nike of Samothrace"  
  
"Get out of this," he barked back at her. "I don't want to have to hurt you."  
  
She laughed, cold and bright. "You know nothing of hurt. But I will show you, you and those you love."  
  
The threat, even nameless, to his friends was too much, so he bolted across the room to the staircase. By the time he reached the upper office, she had disappeared out the window, doubtless into an escape vehicle. He could have pursued, but he hesitated at the thought of harming Vanessa, that woman who could touch Fisk's spark of humanity.  
  
That proved to be a mistake.  


* * *

  
The third time Matt met Vanessa, he was tied to a chair.  
  
"Exquisite," Vanessa murmured above him, drawing a low grunt of affirmation from Fisk at her side.  
  
Matt had survived alien death raining down on his city. He had battled ninjas and gangsters and crime lords. But he had never heard anything so terrifying as the sincerity in Vanessa's voice.  
  
"Simply exquisite. You know, Mr. Murdock, that I am an artist, and I appreciate beautiful things. And you, my dear devil, are a treasure." She laid a gentle hand on his jaw.  
  
"I don't know," he rasped, trying to jerk away from the touch, "there are more blind ninja-types out there than you might suspect. Dime a dozen, really, especially once you get Gao's gang in the picture."  
  
Fisk hissed at that. "Matthew, I suggest that you do not question my wife's judgment on this, or any other matter. She is quite - the authority on such things."  
  
"And yet here she is with you."  
  
Vanessa simply huffed a bemused breath. "My poor, foolish boy. You really have no regard for your own well-being. If you say such rude things, you might provoke Wilson into damaging you, and that would be such a pity. And you would hardly even care. But I'm going to show you better. I will teach you your value." Her hand traveled up his face, began to stroke through his hair. "And you're going to be so good for us, aren't you?"  
  
He reflexively tried to twitch away, but Fisk's heart soared at every jerk. "You're sick."  
  
"You're going to be so good, so sweet," she continued unperturbed, "because we know who you are. We know whom you love. You're going to make us very, very happy to keep them safe. Isn't that right, Matthew?"  
  
"Don't bring them into this. This is just between us. Do what you want to me, but please -"  
  
"Just say 'yes,' Matthew."  
  
"...Yes. God. Yes." He was shaking. He just wanted to stop shaking. Her hand was still lightly toying with his hair, sending little shivers across his scalp and down his spine.  
  
"Good boy," she crooned. Fisk inhaled in pleasure, like a man after his first sip of a fine whiskey. "So good for Wilson. So good for me. We're going to show you just how beautiful you are, just how perfect and priceless."  
  
Her fingers suddenly tightened near his nape, and her hot breath drew close to his ear. "And as soon as you appreciate how much you are worth, then we will take you apart, piece by bloody piece."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is trashfic. Check notes at the end if you want to have a better sense of content.

“There’s something we would like you to do for us, Matthew. A small challenge. We think you will perform admirably. Are you ready?”

His heart sunk at the promise of a task. “I won’t hurt anyone for you. I won’t – I won’t be a part of your dirty work.”

Vanessa laughed fondly. “An intriguing idea, but no. Why must you assume that our intentions for you are so ugly?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

 “You are a man of principle,” Fisk rumbled with that belabored eloquence. “We will always respect that. Even when those principles have caused Vanessa and myself so much grief. We would not take that away from you.”

Vanessa knelt at his feet and withdrew something from her pocket. “I’m going to release you now. And you’re not going to risk doing anything rash, correct? Because you’re a smart man, and I’m sure you understand that there will be _consequences_ for your friends if something should happen to us.” She inserted a key into one of the cuffs at his feet, then paused without turning it. She looked up at him expectantly.

“…No, nothing rash,” he muttered. _When I destroy you, it will be carefully planned, I promise._

“Good. Thank you, Matthew.” She freed his limbs as Fisk unwound the rope around his chest.

“Vanessa –” Fisk growled as she bent to release his wrists. He was perspiring, and his heart had skyrocketed when she reached for the handcuffs.

“If Matthew were going to hurt me, he would have done so already. Isn’t that right? Matthew, tell Wilson all the ways you could kill me right now, even with your hands bound." 

“What?”

“Please, don’t play stupid. We know you better than that.”

Matt took a slow breath in, and bared his teeth up at Fisk as he continued to address Vanessa. “As soon as my feet were free, I could have broken your neck between my knees. I considered kicking your face in, but you’ve taken my shoes and a broken foot would make it hard to escape. I could throw my head back right now and break your nose. While you were stunned, I could use this chair itself as a weapon; I’d need to dislocate my shoulder to get it over my head, which would hurt like hell, but I could ignore it with the adrenaline. Or I think I could dislocate my thumb right now to get out of these cuffs, and then, well,” he craned his head at her over his shoulder, “all my options would be open.”

She ran her thumb against his own, lingering over the joint. “Mmm, like bottled lightning. See, Wilson, Matthew can control himself, given the right incentives.” She turned the key. Matt slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. The cuffs clattered to the ground. For a long moment, no one breathed. Slowly, carefully, Matt rolled his sore shoulders, then folded his hands in his lap.

Vanessa hummed happily at his neck. “Wonderfully done, Matthew. Now, I want you to stand up and remove your jacket and shirt.”

* * *

 

They led him into an adjacent room, Fisk forming a menacing barrier between him and Vanessa. Once inside, they directed him to lay down on ( _oh, God_ ) a bed along the opposite wall. The sheets were softest silk, damn them. Vanessa settled herself at his feet, Fisk at his head, his massive knees bracketing Matt’s skull.

Matt set his jaw and focused on counting his breaths. _Inhale for four. Exhale for four. Focus. Survive._

Vanessa stroked at his shin, her hand a light whisper over the fabric of his trousers. “Oh, darling, there’s no need to be so tense. We’re not going to hurt you. You mean so much more to us than that.”

_Inhale-2-3-4. Exhale-2-3-4. Let the words pass over you._

“That challenge that Vanessa spoke of. It is quite simple really.” Fisk gently wrapped his hands around Matt’s wrists and drew them up into his lap. “We want you to simply trust us. So please, Matthew, stay still, and listen to what my wife has to say. That’s all we ask."

 _Inhale. Exhale_. It didn’t help that Fisk had synced his breathing to Matt’s.

“Thank you, Wilson. Matthew, do you remember when I told you that it could be very intimate to experience a work of art through another’s eyes?”

He didn’t respond. Fisk’s knees tightened around his head. “You will not ignore Vanessa when she speaks to you.”

“Fine. Yes. I remember.”

“Of course you do. It _was_ a good line. And you know I consider you a work of art.  So - has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“I’ve gotten compliments. Beauty isn’t so high on my list of priorities, what with the whole not being able to see.”

“ _Compliments_ ,” she sniffed. “Like clicking ‘like’ next to a masterpiece. Beauty is more than what you experience with your eyes. I’m sure you know that, Matthew, do stop playing dumb. The beauty of a woman’s body when she’s next to you, mmm? The beauty of music, the beauty of motion. These are all things you know. But do you know your own beauty, I wonder.” Her hand squeezed at his calf. “The beautiful power of your own form.”

He smirked.  “I may have been accused of vanity once or twice. I know I don’t look bad.”

“ _Not bad_. Oh, Matthew,” she smiled. “Let me tell you what I see. I see deadly rage in a mild-mannered mask. I see violence turned into the most elegant of dances. I see tenacity in the face of the most terrible circumstances, triumph over weakness, temerity to insist on your strength in spite of all the world has tried to deny you. I see a body and mind that have been refined into purest steel – and yet beneath it all, I see such a vulnerable heart. I see a superego shining with righteousness, barely restraining an id made of pure brutality. And a lonely, neglected human ego trying to contain the two of them.”

She ran a single finger down his bare sternum. “You’re chiaroscuro, Matthew. You’re stunning.”

“Oh dear,” he deadpanned. “I think you’re making me blush. Am I blushing?”

He felt the air compressing in front of Fisk’s hand, but there was no room for him to turn his head. The slap hits him hard across the face. “ _You will respect my wife!"_

Vanessa gave a bemused huff. “Too abstract for you? I can focus on the physical if you prefer.”

Here it came. _Inhale. Exhale._ Fisk’s hands settled again on his wrists, perversely tender. The flash of violence had excited both of them; the stink of their arousal was choking him.

Vanessa crawled up over him so they were face to face. “I see a lovely face that reveals so very, very much. You’re trying so hard to be strong right now, sweetheart.” She tweaked his nose. “It’s very endearing. No, no, no, don’t close your eyes on me now; they’re telling me everything that I need to know.”

She slid down his body. “I see, mmm, the most stunning torso. I should hire a sculptor to carve you.” Her fingers skated over his ribs and he twitched involuntarily. “Oh, Matthew!” Vanessa exclaimed, delighted. “Are you ticklish? Poor, sensitive thing! I should have known better. I’ll try to be more careful of that. I’m sure you must hate it, don’t you?” Fisk’s knees gave a warning squeeze around his head.

“I…yes, I hate being tickled,” he responded, baffled.

She hummed in approval. “Thank you. You must try to tell us of your preferences, and we’ll do what we can to accommodate them. Isn’t that right, Wilson?” True to her word, she changed the pressure of her fingers and began to pet at his stomach. “I swear, your musculature would send any artist into raptures. I would worry that you don’t eat enough, Matthew, but the results are so exquisite that I really can’t complain.”

Her hands trailed down over the peaks of his hipbones, paused for a tense moment at his waistband, then settled one on each thigh. One on each side of where his traitor cock was starting to press against his trousers.

“And from the looks of it, you’re not entirely complaining either. Very good, Matthew. Very, very good.”

“It’s just a physical response to external stimuli,” he gritted. “Don’t flatter yourself –” she pushed down harder, pulling the fabric tighter over his groin. Matt suppressed a gasp. “Don’t flatter yourself thinking that it means anything.”

“Tell us more about your – physical responses. To stimuli,” Fisk blurted out. “It is a matter of great interest to Vanessa and I.”

“I sense things. I respond to them. It’s not that hard.” _Oh, wrong word_.

“Again you insist on disparaging yourself,” Vanessa sighed. “Wilson and I have been watching you, and you’re quite a marvel. You are so sensitive to things around you, yet able to endure so much. Yet another of the fascinating contradictions that wind you tight” – she kneaded at his tense thighs – “and make you tick.”

Matt just bared his teeth.

“My wife is curious, Matthew. Aren’t you going to answer her query?”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Wilson. If he wants to play hard to get, I’m sure we can indulge him.” Her thumbs traced down the inner V of his hips. His core clenched at the contact, and she hissed in pleasure. “I think it’s time we see just where those remarkable senses can take him. Matthew, do you remember the goal of this little exercise?”

“For you to humiliate me? Revenge? Some sad power play?”

“No, darling. _Trust_. We want you to trust us and stay still. You’re doing so well so far. Just keep following where we lead.”

She continued her slow exploration of his body, occasionally murmuring out her admiration. Her hands were unbearably light tracing the hollows of his clavicle, circling his nipples, dipping into the underside of his knee. Without the distraction of her words, the possessive touches traced electric lines in his flesh. She left his pants on and never so much as brushed over his groin, which somehow made him feel even filthier. He tried to remember his training – to slow his pulse, rein in his senses, and will down his aching erection. But his mind was screaming _danger_ and his body was screaming _more_ , and skin was beginning to shudder under the teasing caresses.

“He’s doing well for us, isn’t he, Wilson?”

Fisk’s affirmative rumble traveled down his legs and settled in Matt’s skull.

“Why don’t you tell him, then? I would hate to think he might be under the impression that I’m the only one who appreciates him.”

“Don’t move,” Fisk warned, then released Matt’s wrists. Matt thought of smashing Fisk’s face with his fists. Then he thought of Foggy. Karen. Claire. He stayed still.

Fisk traced the line of Matt’s mouth just once, almost reverently, then settled his hands on either side of Matt’s cheekbones. From the angle of his breath, he was staring straight into Matt’s inverted face. “Matthew, I am – most pleased with this turn of events. I had hoped to kill you, once, but having you alive, like this, is a far more satisfactory outcome. I respect you, and I am very impressed by you. You are being very good for us.”

“Thank you, Wilson.” Vanessa leaned in and placed her hands on top of Fisk’s. The two exchanged a long kiss. She looked down at him. “And thank _you_ , Matthew.”

She returned to her perch over his thighs. Her hand hovered over his chest, and he braced himself for the stroking to recommence – but she reeled out his anticipation, the heat of her spread palm glowing on his skin. It took all his strength not to arch into the touch, to deny completion the sparking circuit. When she began to move her hand, he shivered, and Fisk and Vanessa simultaneously sucked in a breath. 

“Yes, gorgeous creature,” she murmured. “No more hiding from us.”

Her denial of touch was too much. His senses jumped into overdrive trying to track her movements. His hairs were all standing on end, and the brush of air over them burned like fire. He was openly gasping and shaking now, his face hot from shame and want. Vanessa blew a stream of air at his navel and he moaned.

Fisk was stock still at his head while Vanessa toyed with him. His only movement was the hypnotic stroking of his thumbs back and forth, back and forth over the thin skin under Matt’s eyes, his fingers hooked soft but unyielding around Matt’s chin. His breath never strayed from Matt’s face; he was utterly fixated. He was seeing everything – all the twitches and horrible, needy moans that Matt failed to suppress.

Suddenly, Vanessa’s fingernails scratched the entire length of his torso.

Matt wailed and reflexively curled in on his side. His entire body was shaking. The sensation, the adoration, the heat of their bodies, it was all too much. And they were just watching him suck air through his teeth, their hearts pounding out terrible promises. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He buried his face in the crook of his arm.

Vanessa laid a hand on his quivering hip. “That was beautiful, Matthew. Thank you. But we asked you not to move. Can you please lay back down on Wilson’s lap?”

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were flaying him alive with gentle touches and gentler words. It was intolerable. It was the most honest he had been with anyone in his life.

“Alright then, Matthew. If you’ve had all you can take of that, we don’t want to push you too far,” Vanessa cooed. “So – if you will now please turn over onto your stomach, we have something else for you…”

The haze of overstimulation lifted in a moment of terrible clarity. He surged upward with a gasp, bucking Vanessa off the bed. Fisk lunged forward and hooked Matt’s neck with one arm. He yanked him backward again and wrapped his legs around Matt’s own. “ _How dare you?_ ” he bellowed in Matt’s ear. “ _How dare you threaten her? I will destroy you!_ ” Matt scrabbled at Fisk’s forearm, but the chokehold only tightened.

“Matthew!” Vanessa barked from above him. “You will control yourself, or your friends will suffer the consequences. Is that what you want?” He twitched in Fisk’s grip, but allowed his clawed hands to fall to the bed. Fisk lightened his arm a fraction, permitting Matt a rough gasp of air.

“Does that mean you’re ready to cooperate with us now?”

Matt gave another abortive thrash. “ _No_ ,” he croaked. “ _No no no nono no please no._ ”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Fisk tensed as Vanessa leaned in and placed a whisper of a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I know you don’t have reason to trust us yet, but we’re asking you just to try. Can you please do that for us? Just relax, and I promise we’ll treat you well.”

“No, no, God, no…” Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks now.

“Matthew, love. Hush, it’s alright now. I promise you. You’re alright.” She curled up next to the two men, kissed his tears, stroked his face where it was still trapped in Fisk’s arms. Flinching away from her only buried him deeper in Fisk’s menacing, panting embrace. “Shhhh, we’re going to take good care of you, dearest. We’re going to take such good care of you. Just trust us.”

They waited there while Matt sobbed out his protests – Fisk (rock hard against his back) keeping him immobile, Vanessa crooning endearments into his bare chest. Slowly he went limp.

When he had exhausted his tears, they maneuvered him onto his stomach. Fisk remained at his head, trapping Matt’s arms under his iron weight. Vanessa settled back across his thighs…and began to knead expertly at his back.

“You’re so tense, Matthew. You’ve been strung out like a violin string with no one to play you. And we’ve been so cruel, tying you up like that. Your poor shoulders.”

“What?” He craned his head up. “…what?”

“Your back has so many knots in it, it might as well be macramé,” she teased. “You need to learn to relax. It will make my job so much easier if you can stop acting like I’m about to stick a knife in you.”

His head swam. Vanessa wanted to…give him a massage? Who the fuck _were_ these people?

His confusion must have shown on his face. Fisk chuckled. “Matthew, you seem to insist on seeing the worst in people. Perhaps that’s why they call you the devil. My wife, she gives very good backrubs, and she is very generous in sharing that talent with the people she cares for. I suggest that you accept her gift.” 

He couldn’t _relax_ , not stretched out between two mad criminals. But the fight had seeped out of him, and her hands somehow knew how to find and prod at all his sorest points on his body until the ache dispersed. God help him, it felt good to be the focus of her attentive care. She did something clever with the heel of her hand, and his spine popped like a line of firecrackers. He groaned in relief. She practically purred in triumph.

Vanessa was patient, and strong, and kept at it until his breath was even and the shaking gone from his limbs. Fisk scooped him up and carried him back next door, then locked him back onto that horrible chair.

Vanessa brushed the sweaty hair off his face and planted a lingering kiss on his forehead. “Matthew, you exceeded all our expectations today. We are so, so proud of you, sweetheart. We’re going to go beautiful places together.”

Vanessa rose and placed a hand around Fisk’s neck. She pulled him down so their foreheads were touching. “And you, Wilson,” she added in heated tones. “You were spectacular, my love.”

“Vanessa,” Fisk stammered, overcome, “you are – incomparable.”

They left him then, arms wrapped around each other. They made love next door, on the silk sheets soaked with Matt’s sweat. They made no effort to hide the sounds of their coupling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more terrible, terrible things happening to Matt Murdock. Decent people should turn back now. Thanks to all my fellow sinners who encouraged me to write more.
> 
> Still no full-fledged non-con, but we're firmly in that territory. People leave (most of) their clothes on in this chapter, but Vanessa and Fisk do a lot of touching and taunting and threatening Matt. He gets a shameboner and cries. Then they make him listen to them having sex next door.
> 
> morningsided.tumblr.com if that's your kind of thing


End file.
